


Cargo.

by canonjohnlock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Angst, Baby Sam, Baby Sam Winchester, Young Dean, Young Dean Winchester, Young Winchesters, Zombie, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3977254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canonjohnlock/pseuds/canonjohnlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean cannot protect Sammy. Not anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cargo.

**Author's Note:**

> also available on wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/60498186-cargo

**Based on the short film** **[Cargo.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gryenlQKTbE) **

* * *

 

Dean wailed, the seat belt crushing his stomach and making it impossible to breathe. He heard Sammy crying next to him, high pitched squeals on the deserted side of the road. Dean sniffled and looked around. In the front seat was Mommy, but it wasn’t really her. It was what Daddy called “brain munchers.” He told Dean that if he sees one, he should run fast and silent. They were dangerous. Mommy was a brain muncher and she was trying to munch Daddy’s brains. Dean struggled against the seat belt. He twisted and writhed against the strap. Sammy had quieted down and was just sniffling here and there. Suddenly, Daddy woke up. Dean thought it was stupid of him to be napping at a time like this.

 

“Mary…” John mumbled, reaching towards his wife. Dean tried to yell “Daddy, no!” but he couldn’t find his voice. Mommy had bitten Daddy.

 

He swore and then paled, glancing into the backseat at his two young sons. He saw Dean staring at him, wide-eyed and filled with horror. John stared back at Dean, eyes remorseful, and then pulled out his handgun.

 

“Watch out for, Sammy, Dean.” And then fired the gun at Mary and then at himself.

 

Sam cried out at the loud bang of the bullet leaving the barrel and Dean struggled against the seat belt once more. Finally, it snapped and Dean clambered out of his car seat and tried to get Sam out. Sam wasn’t stuck like Dean was, but he was crying harder. Dean shushed Sam and rocked him, trying to get him to calm down.

 

Dean was not the brightest kid at preschool. He wasn’t all that good at coloring or counting. But Dean loved learning about scary animals, like sharks and bears, and brain munchers were just another scary animal. Dean thought long and hard before he remembered that brain munchers are attracted to noise and Daddy had just fired a gun. He had to move. Now.

 

He grabbed Sammy’s diaper bag, struggling to hold both his brother and the bag. Then he had an idea. Sometimes when Mommy was cleaning the house, she would put Sammy on her back so he was out of the way and wouldn’t get into trouble. Dean thought it would be a good idea to do that, too. He set Sammy down on the dry grass, careful to position him so that he wouldn’t roll over or fall. Then Dean tried to open the trunk. It opened easily, seeing that the hatch was broken. Dean hoped Mommy had packed the baby backpack when they fled their home in Kansas to get to the safehouse in South Dakota. She did pack it. Dean felt very lucky.

 

And then he realized he didn’t know how to work the baby backpack and he felt like crying. But he didn’t. He sucked it up and sat in front of Sammy as he tried to figure out how to work the backpack. He did eventually, but then he had to adjust the straps to that Sammy wouldn’t drag on the ground. Dean was short. He hoped Sammy would grow to be big and tall someday.

* * *

_“How was school, sweetie?” Mary asked as she placed a peanut butter and jelly in front of Dean._

_Dean took a bite of his sandwich and said with peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth, “Fun! Only seven kids showed up so we just watched some movies and played games. I hope there’s more kids tomorrow, though. Henry wasn’t there. We were supposed to play with dinosaurs.”_

_Mary hummed to show she was listening as she fed Sammy peas. His gums looked like rot. Dean gagged a little. At least Sammy seemed to like the food. Dean thought it looked disgusting._

_“Mary….” John said, emerging from the living room. “Can we talk for a second?”_

_Dean grinned. “Daddy!”_

_John returned a weak smile. “Hey, kiddo. Doing good?”_

_“Doing great!”_

_John ruffled his hair and then walked back into the living room with Mary. “Finish feeding Sam, Dean,” Mary tossed over her shoulder._

_Dean groaned, but obliged. Sammy grinned when Dean started feeding him, his two bottom teeth jutting out slightly. Dean talked to Sammy about his day and how his teacher, Miss Acker, had sucky taste in movies._

_Mary came back into the kitchen, looking pale and worried.  “Dean, honey, can you go upstairs and pack a bag? We’re going a vacation.”_

_Dean cheered. “Yay!” Then he darted upstairs and started throwing clothes into his duffle bag that Uncle Bobby had given him when he visited for Christmas last year. Dean was so excited to be going on a vacation, he could hardly stand it._

* * *

With Sammy on his back and the diaper bag over his shoulder (with some clothes from his duffel bag stuffed in there), Dean began walking down the road in the same direction they had been traveling before they had crashed. Dean thought that maybe if he could find a map his travels would be easier, but he realized he couldn’t read maps, let alone read. So Dean marched down the road in hopes of finding a kind family to help him. They would take him to Uncle Bobby. Until then, he could practice his balance by trying to stay on the double yellow line in the middle of the road. He did pretty well, he might add.

 

Dean walked for what seemed like hours before the sun started to set and Dean had no where to sleep. He couldn’t walk at night because Daddy told him it was dangerous when brain munchers were around. They moved faster in the dark, Daddy told him. This didn’t make sense to Dean, but Daddy was always right. Dean began to look out for brain munchers. Dean couldn’t see them, but he could smell them. It was the stink of rotting flesh and dried blood. Dean screwed up his nose as he walked faster, hoping to find a house or even a cave to sleep in.

 

Right as the sun was about to dip below the horizon, Dean saw an abandoned rest stop. Using his last bits of energy, he ran towards it, Sammy giggling as he bounced on Dean’s back. Dean remembered to listen to the doors and look through the windows to see if there were any brain munchers. Daddy taught him how to do it. Dean checked three times before opening the door slowly and finding the shelter free of the smell of rotting flesh. Dean smiled and quickly shut the door behind him. It was dark in the rest stop and Dean didn’t have any matches, but he found a flashlight that shone dimly and Dean thought it a good substitute for a night light. He made up a bed with torn blankets and stained pillows he found and he took Sammy off his back. Dean’s back hurt and he wondered if that was how Mommy felt when Sammy was on her back.

 

Dean grew sad. Mommy and Daddy were dead. He almost started crying but remembered Sam was there. And he had to be strong for Sammy. And feed Sammy. So after Sam has a lukewarm bottle and Dean had rocked him to sleep, Dean cried softly. He wanted Mommy and Daddy back very badly.

* * *

“Recent news in the current pandemic: Everybody everywhere should begin to travel to safe houses. I repeat, everyone should travel to safe houses. The CDC cannot contain this pandemic anymore.”

 

_Mommy turned off the radio. Dean asked, “What’s wrong? What’s a pandemic?”_

_John began to say, “It’s the spread of-” But Mary cut him off, saying, “Nothing, sweetie.”_

_“Mary, he needs to know.”_

_“No, he doesn’t John.”_

_“What if something happens to us before we get to the safe house?”_

_Mary sighed, defeated, and John continued. “It’s the spread of a disease across the world.”_

_Dean furrowed his brow. “What disease?”_

_“Um…. Brain munchers.”_

_“What are brain munchers?”_

_“They walk really slow and they want to eat people.”_

_Dean gasped and began to tear up. “Can- Can they get us?”_

_“We won’t let them. But here’s what you need to know…”_  

* * *

Sammy woke up Dean the next morning by crying for a bottle and a diaper change. Dean had never changed a diaper but he had watched Mommy and Daddy do it a few times. Dean found it very gross. Dean ate some of Sammy’s nasty smashed peas. He was so hungry he almost didn’t mind the taste. Almost.

 

And the brothers were off again. Dean walked faster this time, ignoring how sore his feet were. He felt blisters popping, like the ones he got on his hands when he did the monkey bars too many times. Around what Dean presumed was noon (but was actually nine o’clock) Dean heard the sound of brain munchers nearby. He stopped, looked around, and saw a whole swarm of them coming up behind him on the road. Sammy wailed and all of them looked up and started limping towards Dean and Sam. Dean ran. He ran with all his might and he didn’t stop, even when he fell and scraped his knee. Tears streamed down his face and he was blinded. He couldn’t see. He ran into something. Maybe a tree. Hopefully another person. He felt a sharp pain on his shoulder and he screeched and ran away. He ran for one mile before he stopped. He was okay. Tired and thirsty, but okay. Except he wasn’t. He had been bitten on his shoulder. Sammy was fine, though. That was all that mattered.

 

Dean knew he had to think fast. He had make sure Sammy was safe, but he couldn’t leave him alone. But Dean could no longer protect him. Dean had an idea.

 

Crouching on the side of the road, he shoved a pacifier in Sammy’s mouth, gave him a bottle if he grew hungry, and changed his diaper. Dean found some mud and dipped his fingers in it. As Sammy slept (cutely, Dean thought to add), Dean wrote on his head, SAM, the only word he could actually write. Dean put Sammy on his back and wandered down the road, hoping to find the next part of his plan. He found it in a dead raccoon on the side of the road. Swallowing back bile, he scooped out the guts and put them in a plastic bag usually reserved for dirty diapers, which he then tied to a stick. He stuck the guts-on-a-stick into the baby backpack so that the guts hung down before him, guiding him. He tried very hard to ignore the smell. He only puked once. He was proud of that. Then, he tied his wrists together with some vine he had found and waited for the change to happen as he continued down the road. 

* * *

_Mommy was asleep in the passenger seat and Daddy was humming to some music when Dean fell asleep. Sammy was playing with his rattle. They were only a few hours away from the safe house. Dean was tired from being in a car all day._

_Suddenly, Daddy cursed and swerved the car. The road, slick from the recent rain, seemed to get pulled out from under them and then Dean was falling. His seatbelt rubbed against his throat and Sammy’s teddy bear hit him in the eye. Sammy cried. Dean heard Mommy scream and then fall silent. Dean was too scared to make a sound._  

* * *

At three o’clock, Dean fell over and rose as a brain muncher. He followed the racoon guts hanging before him.

 

_Watch out for, Sammy._

_Watch out for, Sammy._

_Watch out for, Sammy._

_Watch out for, Sammy._

_Watch out for, Sammy._

_Watch out for, Sammy._

_Watch out for, Sammy._

_Watch out for, Sammy._

A few miles down the road, a group of travelers came across Dean. At first, they mistook him for just a lost little kid. A young man of about twenty-one was the first to approach Dean, calling out gently, “Hey! Kid! You alright? Little boy?” He didn’t realize what Dean was until he got about three yards away. “Oh, shit!” he shouted, falling backwards and firing. Dean dropped to his knees and then fell to his side. The others in the group ran up to the young man.

 

“What the hell, man? You just shot a little kid!” one shouted, raising his gun.

 

The man scrambled back. “No, no I didn’t! He’s- he’s- Look at him!”

 

An older woman stepped forward and crouched beside Dean. Quietly, she spoke, “Oh my god. Poor soul.” She looked more closely at Dean. “What’s this set up he’s got?” she asked as she kicked the bag of raccoon guts.

 

The young man crouched next to the woman. “I don’t know. I thought it was odd.” He pushed the boy onto his back with the barrel of his gun. The guts-on-a-stick fell lopsided and the bag burst open, the smell spilling into the air. The young man ignored it; it was no worse than the smell of them. “Look at this,” he said slowly, motioning the others over. “He’s got his hands tied together…”

 

A short but sharp cry startled the group, causing them to jump back. “The fuck?” the young man shouted.

 

The woman looked confused. “Sounded like a baby…”

 

The noise pierced the air again.

 

“It is a baby,” the young man stated. “Where is it?” He looked around. Maybe it was on the side of the road or in a ditch or a tree… “Wait a second.” He turned Dean over onto his face and saw a large green bundle on his back. Pulling the green blanket back, the pale head of Sam Winchester was revealed. “Shit,” he swore, pulling Sam out of the carrier. Sam wailed and clutched Dean’s shirt. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. I got you. Someone’s been looking out for you.” He pulled Sam free and stared at his wide, hazel eyes.

 

“What’s that on his head?” the woman asked.

 

“SAM.”

 

The ‘s’ was backwards.

 

 


End file.
